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As symbolic as I am, I guess this one flew right past me . . . literally.

I had never seen a hawk in my life. But they were showing up in my son’s path everywhere. I had recently moved to a little beach bungalow a few houses from my son on an island separated from the mainland by a short causeway. My front door sits facing the ocean about a football field length from the water’s edge.

On February 17th, the day of my son’s birthday, he visited my bungalow and walked down to the water’s edge. Moments later he beckoned at my door “Hurry up, come quick. You’ve got to see this. There’s a red-tailed hawk sitting still in the tree by the water.” We both hurried to the water’s edge. I was excited to see my first hawk, but truth be told, figured it had probably flown off with the short passage of time.

But there it sat . . . and sat and sat.

The three of us stood locked in our positions for quite a while, the hawk observing us, I’m sure, as much as we were observing it. Then slowly it extended its wings like a morning stretch, methodically calculating, as if to get our attention. Then in one fell swoop took off in graceful flight. I was still too frozen in awe to move. Then finally, “You need to sit in quiet for a bit and contemplate why these hawks are showing up all around you,” I suggested to my son as I turned and headed back to the bungalow.

Later that morning as we returned together to the island a hawk sat perched at the entrance to the island. Then down by the water again late that same afternoon a hawk swooped and swooned in showman fashion in my son’s presence then went completely translucent in the sun before appearing again.

I went to the Native American Animal Medicine website of Dr. Loretta Standley and when I clicked on “hawk” I gasped. Posted was a message that “hawk medicine” would be published on February 17th, my son’s birthday, the very day we were being inundated with hawks. Doggone it, what was the likelihood of that?

The symbolic synchronicities were beginning to reverberate.

And in hindsight (no pun intended), I couldn’t help but wonder at this point if the hawk was showing up for me as well. I’d certainly never seen one before and suddenly they were appearing and performing at this waterfront property that I’d stumbled upon completely out of the blue and had only been at for a very short time.

I was too busy still unpacking boxes to ponder the hawk’s presence in my path, as had been suggested to me. I’d think about it later, I self-reasoned, when I had more time.

“Where’d you get that feather?” my son asked, spotting a feather sticking out of a small vase on my nightstand. “Oh,” I said, “A while back I went to the driveway one morning to get the paper (at the home I just left) and when I picked the newspaper up from the ground the feather fell out from under it. I thought it was cool so I saved it.”

“Um, what?” I questioned his deer-in-the-headlight glare.

“That’s a red-tailed hawk feather”, he said then pulled up a photo on the internet.

Okay. Time to ponder, I whispered to myself.

Although I have a keen eye for detail, I do more often see the forest, not the trees. Admittedly, though, lately life has had me mentally and emotionally too exhausted to see much more than the daily tasks before me. I was just coming out from under the end of a very long and serious family matter. I was trying to recalibrate my life, rejuvenate my energy and refocus on my goals. I knew what I was aiming for but wondered if there was too much dust on the bottle for the genie (me) to emerge. I was craving some serious down time but hawk medicine was making it visually clear that that wasn’t going to happen.

The hawk is known for its keen eyesight, I'd learned, to find what it wants, close in on it at record speed and capture it; to broaden its perspective, knowing what it wants is there for the taking. At any other time this hawk medicine would have been invigorating, mystifyingly catapulting me to soar ahead in life and leisure.

But I was spent, exhausted and desperately needed a dose of inspiration.

"Are you coming to the annual conference? YOU BELONG!" my friend and Executive Director of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists' email inquired. "Register. Check out the standout conference speakers. There are a limited number of hotel rooms blocked so make your reservation now."

I knew this prodding was heaven sent. I could feel it on every inch of my body as I read her email. I knew it was hawk medicine telling me I couldn't let life clip my wings. I had to find a way to soar above its inundations and swoop in and capture my prey (goals).

I reserved my hotel room, registered for the convention, thanked my friend and then responded to another outstanding publication to write for.

Christine McDonald is the Chief Inspiration Officer of her life and business. “Writing since I was old enough to hold a pencil and a thought” I aim to inspire others through my writings and teaching of the healing arts of therapeutic journal writing and how to reacquaint with your spiritual essence through Reiki.

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